Posts tagged with "weather"

happy child

The summer started uneventfully, with a mix of rainy weather and cold nights. I long for afternoons in the bright sun, Lou Reed during his Velvet Underground years crooning to me over small speakers, with nothing better to do than wiping the condensation off a cold drink. It’s a life that doesn’t seem far away, and yet a life I never imagine making for myself. I always think it’ll just happen some day, that things will fall into place if I can take care of everything else.

Friday Night Magic

It’s okay to be OCD about how your cards are organized as long as everyone else is.

Aaron has me over for dinner every week with Karen and the two kids. It’s a ritual he has yet to break, even though he told me he didn’t want it to be a calendar event when I asked him if we could do something on a regular basis1. Every Wednesday he leaves work early to let me in the house, and makes up the time by working longer hours on other days, a sacrifice that means more to me than he’ll ever understand, and something I never had to ask him to do. It’s nice to be able to look forward to regular plans, and something I share only with him that makes me feel like I belong.

About as often are Magic nights with Trolley and Steph, and these invariably include something delicious for dinner, when Steph takes the culinary arts to a whole new level. They take care of me with food and conversation and booster packs that they never let me pay for. I’m sure I owe a great deal of my sanity to them, when Magic was the only thing that took my mind off the fact that everything fell apart.

pretty wolf

Nobody fucks Pretty Wolf.

In between are things less frequent, but no less important. Musical projects with Jesse or Seth that give me the kind of goals and purpose I’ve been looking for. Sessions with Lisa, when we get to share the things we don’t share with anyone else. Hangouts with Tiana to debrief on our ever-changing lives, and to give each other advice or a pair of ears. Dinners with Heather G when I need my dose of optimism and adventurism. Not to mention the people who send me messages of check up on how I’m doing when they can’t be here for me physically.

big dog and two girls


It feels strange to be busy again. To be productive, and social, and to need days off when I’m not even employed.

Not that it’s been an attempt to stay occupied; more like making sure my needs are being met. That I have fulfilling relationships that provide me with what I need, involving people who make me feel hopeful and worthwhile and connected and nurtured and protected and satisfied and accepted and understood and validated and loved and confident and safe and in control.

  1. Only because it’s something he wanted to keep casual, where neither person felt any pressure. []

a change of seasons

We’re doing this a little differently tonight.

I decided that I don’t spend enough time in my living room. I’m always at the computer in the corner of the bedroom. It’s my crawlspace, my cozy nook, thanks to the darkness and a decent set of speakers. Then I go to sleep on the couch in the living room.

But I used to spend nights writing in this living room. Usually on the ground with my back to a patch of wall between the window (open, of course) and the back door. Or with a mug of tea at the dining table. Nights full of warmth, and emotion, and clarity. I miss that. Back when I could still write about love. Back when I had love to write about.


But I’m here now in my blankets with my laptop. On the TV is The Brown Bunny in all it’s grainy old-school glory, and Vincent Gallo, that sexy motherfucker. I wish I could be as cocky. The second time through the movie you realize that all the girls are named after flowers.


Sunday night feels like it’s been alternating between snow and rain all weekend. As per tradition, I’m seeing how long I can go without turning on the furnace before it gets too cold. I’ve never minded the chill; it only makes blankets and hoodies all the more comfortable. My cat tends to be a lot more cuddlier too, and aggressive even, in where she plants herself next to me.

I’ve been waiting for the snow to come. Even with the hassle and the mess and the biting cold, it’s still worth it to wake up to a white world.



I’ve been drawn to photography again. With video, an important moment can be easily lost, but with photography the viewer has no choice but to confront the single frame presented to them. There’s also something about a lack of context. A photograph is more conducive to letting an audience wonder what has happened to lead up to the image, and what happened after.

The problem is that I don’t have anything to photograph anymore. I feel so uninspired. I never go out. Sometimes I wonder if I’m getting more and more anti-social. I work from home for four days a week now. Every time I think I should pick up the phone and call someone to catch up, I never do.

I’m starting to feel less and less guilty about it. I can’t tell if I’m getting comfortable, or just lazy.

Two (and a half) Days in St. Louis

Day one

At security, I’m selected randomly for a screening. The guard asks my age. “Twenty…”, I begin, trying to remember if I’m 27, 28, or 29. “Twenty. Okay.”, he says, cutting me off. Somehow, he believes I look nearly a decade younger than I am. For two days, I’m packed light, with no checked baggage. In my rush, I forget to get some American money. This worries me.

Ottawa airport

Plane in Ottawa

Continue reading “Two (and a half) Days in St. Louis”…

When Will The Devil Take Me?

It hasn’t stopped raining since I woke up this morning, and now it’s dark, with only the streetlamps and their reflections in the puddles for light. It’s cold outside.

This is a good thing.

I feel like the eponymous character in Onegin. Sitting on the balcony in the dead of winter, waiting for a letter. His servant, handing him a stemmed glass of vodka, asks him to come inside because it’s cold. “I like the cold” he replies, as he resigns himself to his fate.

He walks down the streets of Saint Petersburg, and his motif comes in on the piano, followed by strings. FADE TO BLACK.

A stoic face to the world. Can I say stoic? I like stoic.

These titles are getting harder and harder to write.

And I want to say that I’m melancholy, but I’m not. But I’m not giddy either. My emotions aren’t black and white. They’re a mixture of ups and down. I don’t know what to say when I don’t know what I’m feeling or what comes next.

I’m just waiting. Passive. Yielding.

Hong Kong Humidity

Difference in Hong Kong and Ottawa weather

One of the notable differences here is the humidity. The pages of my book are beginning to wrinkle. Towels don’t dry when they’re hung on a line. Even though it’s 20°C outside, it feels more like 15°C because it’s so damp. Humidity is something that Hong Kong is known for, as it’s surrounded by water and filled with tall buildings. It makes me wonder how people deal with mold in their houses.

Ironically, it “rained” two days in a row, but the rain was so weak that I had to ask others if they felt the droplets. Very different from Ottawa, where rainfall goes beyond obvious, and can last for days on end.